


She Keeps Me Warm

by anxiouss_princess



Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Consensual Daemon Touching, Daemon Touching, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Incest, Lyra's World (His Dark Materials), Underage - Freeform, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:35:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21854623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiouss_princess/pseuds/anxiouss_princess
Summary: "... It was wonderfully strange. You filled me up with such love and light, and now that you’re gone…” his voice trailed off, getting more muted and harder to hear. “It’s almost cold,” he finished, looking off in the distance past Lyra. It was as if he were trying to make sense of the words he was stringing together as he spoke them.“But I’m not gone. I’ll always be here,” she went to lean herself forward, running her hand down Stelmaria’s back again that sent such bright fireworks that dazzled brilliantly through his dark shadows. He gasped in a startle—then marveled at her, smile growing wide—such a genuine smile that made Lyra feel giddy. “See? I’ll never let you be cold again.”
Relationships: Lord Asriel/Lyra Belacqua
Comments: 11
Kudos: 52





	She Keeps Me Warm

**Author's Note:**

> I figured that I'm already going to hell anyway, so why not... *crawls back into dumpster*

Lyra had been lounging on the floor of her bedroom, limbs splayed out as if she were pretending to be a fallen corpse. The room was bright and warm—the sun hadn’t been out for days until now. The rays settled directly on her skin, giving a toasty and warm feeling that sent a sense of relaxation through her muscles.

She raised one of her arms in the air, hovering it there very still. She stretched her fingers as if trying to reach for the light that cascaded through the window. The caramel tinted glow dripped through the glass like a divine spotlight that was glittering, all but diamond-like as it shimmered on her hand. Her skin illuminated as it blocked the stream of daylight, casting dark shadow figures that danced on the ceiling. Pan had even started shifting into slightly different creatures like a bunny or a cat to help along with the process, which made Lyra giggle. 

She heard the door creak open, craning her neck to see Asriel in the doorway. He held onto the doorknob with one hand, and leaned against the doorframe with the other as Stelmaria was a couple of steps behind him. He was wearing one of his wool sweaters again, this one being a black turtleneck that was tightly snug against his form. Stelmaria’s eyes were wide and glistening as they shifted between Pan, who was now back to his original form, and Lyra as her arms fell slack to her sides against the floor in a muffled thud. 

Asriel’s face was stern at first, but contorted subtly into soft amusement. The hard lines lifted from his face and made him look younger. “What on _earth_ are you doing on the floor?” he inquired, stepping forward into her room.

“Bored—and this spot makes better finger shadows than being on my bed,” she explained, reaching her arm up again. She twiddled her fingers in the warm light that gleamed directly above her. 

Asriel drew his eyebrows together at first in puzzlement, but then shook his head and chuckled quietly to himself. Lyra began to hear his footsteps, more prominent as he moved closer and could feel his presence by her side. He stooped down to sit on the floor next to her, and she tried to force back her smile that she could feel starting to form on her lips. She continued to stare up at the off-white ceiling above her head that felt so far away—but not as far away as Asriel used to feel to her. Always unobtainable, always disappearing before she could even have a chance to notice he was even there. 

But now he was there more often, and he was being … _different_ with her. It was all a new experience for Lyra, and it was very bizarre for her at first—but she was not complaining that they were now at last experiencing a type of closeness. That she felt cared for, finally. 

Lyra lolled her head to the side so she could look at him beside her. He was looking down at her with a strange fondness she was still not quite used to seeing yet. It also dawned on her in that moment, because of how near he was now, that he was wearing her favorite sweater of his. She would always comment on it whenever he wore it, and the fact he had it on in that moment made her smirk to herself.

“Nice sweater,” she murmured, grin still unmoving on her childish face. She could see small particles of dust swarm in the rays like chaotic bees directly overhead as her voice touched the air. 

She couldn’t tell if it was the lighting of the room, or how the sun might have fallen in her eyes that made a harsh glare distort her vision—but it was as if Asriel’s ivory-toned cheeks had been lit a flame below the surface. They were heating up to a rosy colored tinge that soaked into the paler portions of his face. She wondered if he were becoming ill. 

He then cleared his throat, moving to wipe his hand across his face and left it there lingering against his mouth. Lyra propped herself up, “Are you feeling under the weather? Your face is all flushed.” She pressed a small hand to his warm and clammy forehead, which made him snort in response as a half-smile quirked up the corner of his mouth. 

Both of their heads turned swiftly then, Lyra’s hand also dropping from his face as the sound of a gentle mewling came from Stelmaria. She was snuggled up closely to Pan in that moment, their heads nearly touching. His whiskers rustled as he sniffed her silky silver fur that looked fluffy enough to bury himself and fall asleep into. She continued to purr, stretching out her neck as a silent blessing for him to come closer. 

Lyra watched on in grave interest, never seeing their daemons this intimate before. Asriel let out a slight huff in puzzlement, as if he were thinking about something.

“They haven’t gotten this close before,” Lyra stated matter-of-factly, voice filled with wonder as her eyebrows pinched together at the sight of them. 

Asriel sighed. “No, they haven’t…” his mind seemed somewhere else entirely, as if he were pondering other matters. Lyra was curious as to where he went as his eyes narrowed in deep consideration, his face looking serious, but not intimidating. 

“What are you thinking about?” she was then turned to face him, trying to study his face and see if she could find any answers there. He shifted in position towards her as well. He met her large doe-brown eyes with his steely blue ones, equally as searching and curious. 

“You…” he started, head swaying awkwardly—not a word Lyra thought she would use to describe Asriel, but it fit in this instance—to look at their two daemons again, “… if you wanted…” his voice trailed off into a husky whisper as his sapphire irises were still trained on Stelmaria and Pan cuddling each other. 

Lyra sighed fondly. “Spit it out!” she laughed, nudging him in the leg with her foot, which also made Asriel crack a smile. “Before I grow to be as _old as you are,”_ her smile widened, a mischievous and amusement glinting in her eyes. 

“You know what, maybe I’ll just not tell you what I was going to say and keep this offer to myself,” he teased, raising his eyebrows at her in challenge. 

_“Fine,_ fine… go on.” She gestured with her hand in a motion that correlated with this request of hers as she flopped herself back on the floor. 

“If you wanted to, you could pet Stelmaria,” he suggested, voice calm. There was a slight pause after he added, “if you’d like.” It was probably a lot easier to say since Lyra was not looking at him in that moment. 

Lyra flung herself back up immediately, hands pushing herself up with a surprising force that made her look like a flopping rag doll. Her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, her entire face scrunched as the emotion spread through her more and more. “I thought… I thought that we weren’t supposed to touch other people’s daemons?” there was an astonishment to her voice, eyes widening as she spoke, large as marbles. 

Asriel grimaced slightly, face starting to feel numb as he went to rub his hand on the back of his neck absentmindedly. “I mean… it _is_ rare for that to happen, but it _can_ be done,” he explained, his eyes finally darting back to meet hers again. 

The look of utter awe on her face grew. “How?” was all she was able to think of to say. 

“Well, it’s only when you trust somebody _completely_ … and are willing to open yourself up and share yourself with them,” his voice hushed as he continued. He wasn’t looking at Lyra anymore, his eyes returned to Pan and Stelmaria, now completely nuzzled into each other and purring contentedly. “To be closer with them.” 

If anything, Lyra only looked more confused. “You trust me? I thought you didn’t trust anyone.” She scooted herself closer to him, his head instinctively whipping to look at her fleetingly before he looked away again. 

“I do trust you— _only_ you,” he answered, and there was a lot of gravel and deepness to his tone as he whispered these words. 

Lyra paused as she sat there thinking to herself. She couldn’t help but insistently get that cold gut feeling that spread through her like winter water that’d freeze over at the thought of touching someone else’s daemon. Like an instinct that it was just… wrong. 

“I still feel like I shouldn’t be… like it’s wrong, and that—that I would be hurting you…”

Asriel shook his head. “You would not be hurting me. I’m _telling_ you that you can do it. I _want_ you to,” he sounded so certain and reassuring. His eyes were looking into hers again, and they were so open and raw that it sent the strangest feeling as it burned at the center of her gut. 

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” 

She nodded timidly as she slowly inched herself forward—but not very far. It was nearly a micro-movement that was hardly noticeable as she went to shift backwards in hesitation. She inhaled through her nose steeply as she stared at the intricately patterned snow leopard who had started to slink her way towards Lyra on her own volition. Her breath caught in her throat as she was now mere inches away, heavily and sluggishly blinking her tawny eyes, waiting. Lyra swallowed, turning to look at Asriel. 

His smile toward her was kind and tender as he swept his long fingers through his greying hair. His hair that Lyra had been observing to be getting more streaked in these silvering tones lately. The dark chocolate pigment slowly withered away with age, as his face became more lined and crinkled—especially most noticeable when he frowns or shows rage. When he smiled, that was when the lines lifted, and he looked more youthful. 

She smiled back, a sincere one that stretched out her cheeks and lifted the corners of her eyes. She felt happy and warm. Fuzzy. A buzzing went through her head—or maybe that was her heart thudding so loudly it could be felt pounding through her entire body. _Thump-thump, thump-thump._ The sensation was increasing in vigor. It felt like a robust drumming that was taking place somewhere deep inside as a whole variety of sensations swept over her, coursing throughout her veins. 

She extended her hand; it was a bit of a hesitant and leisurely process as it visibly shook. Asriel delicately grasped onto it, enclosing it with his own. It felt warm as his fingers draped over hers, steady and much larger. She could see small veins protruding from them, like complex blue-green lightning bolts that were sculpted on his hands. “Only if you truly want to,” he was just about inaudible, but Lyra could see his lips move and the weak words sounding through her ears. 

She nodded, feeling all jumbled and upside down like a puzzle where all the pieces had been thrown wildly to the ground. There was no rhyme or reason to where the pieces landed, some even lost and never to be found. “I do.” She felt his calloused hand, that somehow felt like silk as well, firmly squeeze hers. 

He took that hand that was still interlocked in his and guided it over Stelmaria’s head—hovering directly above her. “See? I trust you,” he whispered next to her, almost like a faint breeze falling over her that she could barely catch on a blazing summer day. “Only you.” He gradually let go of her hand, a slow and deliberate pace. Each finger individually lifted away until his hand was gone completely, an old sensation that still lingered on her skin. It was left flush and tingling like pins and needles. She missed it already, somehow. 

She thought to herself—perhaps being able to run her fingers through Stelmaria’s sleek coat would be chasing after that sensation and be very similar. That she’d be able to show him with care and tenderness how much she adored him. 

She went to drop her hand tentatively, fingers dipping into the spiked white and black hairs of Stelmaria’s as she leaned into it and began to purr. Worriedly, Lyra altered her gaze to Asriel, examining his face for reassurance that she wasn’t doing anything to harm him. She noticed his eyes fluttering closed and head tipping back as a hum droned from his slightly agape jaw. The sound was low and rumbling like Stelmaria’s purr that vibrated through Lyra’s hand, tickling her skin. 

“Is this alright?” Lyra ran her fingers through his daemon’s fur, purring increasing in level as she stroked and felt the wispy hairs graze over each of her petite fingers. 

“Mm,” a throaty and airy hum was all Asriel was able to manage, and Lyra mistook this as pain and removed her hand. This caused him to open his eyes abruptly as a faint whine crept up his throat. “No, no, no…” he encouraged, shaking his head, all fuzzy from different sensations flickering through him at once like a broken film projector. “Don’t stop,” his voice betrayed him as his breath hitched, his tone making it mirror a pained plea. His cheeks burned with such a scorching and smoking intensity as Lyra’s eyes were pinned on him. Her gaze felt scrutinizing as she looked him over with such fascination. 

The confusion on her face only seemed to deepen further, however, leaning her head slightly to the side as she looked at him quizzically. “But you seem to be in pain…” 

“It’s not pain… this isn’t pain,” his chest heaved as he extended his hand out to her, fingers twitching in anticipation. “Come here.” 

She maneuvered her way over to him cautiously as she crawled, still kneeling on the ground. He reached for her hand once again, lacing his fingers with hers as he brought it to his chest. Lyra could feel the thick material of his sweater, as well as how hard his heart was beating through it as he firmly placed her hand against him. She felt it thrumming through her palm all the way to her fingertips. She studied her own hand that was tangled with his as it laid on him, his breathing deep and heavy. 

“Feel that?” he murmured, voice velvety and liquid that dripped all over her like a sticky honey. She could feel the whirring that it sent through his chest and into her fingers, just like his heart beating did. It overlapped and entangled with it like an odd harmony, but the thumping of his heart too overpowering and vital. It sent a chill down her spine, and she nodded in response as she kept staring at their hands. “That’s because of you,” he put his other hand over hers, clutching it desperately and warmly, “That’s how you’re making me feel.” He sounded breathless, like he had just run a marathon and to the point where his legs were about to give out. 

Lyra almost didn’t want to move her hand away. She wanted to feel every twitch and heave of his chest, how hard his heart pounded under her palm that sent shockwaves through her slender fingers. As if her mind was read, Stelmaria stalked over and stretched herself out beside Lyra. Her large eyes stared up at her wistfully and waiting. 

Lyra took her right hand that was not splayed across Asriel’s chest and snaked it tactfully into the glossy coat of Stelmaria’s. Asriel’s grip tightened around her hand, almost crushing as she felt his entire body twitch against her. His heart was erratically throbbing like mad, shooting right through her hand—practically feeling it course through her entire body. It felt like she had two separate heart beats— her own, and now his as they pounded in together messily and out of sync. 

She started to massage with her fingers little and soothing circles, pressing down hard enough that she could feel the falter of Asriel’s breath, chest shuddering under the tips of her fingers. The heat of him radiated through his sweater, seeping into her. His pulse steepened as she went to start lightly grazing Stelmaria’s back, tracing her spine with the pad of her thumb. His pulse was so forceful she began to wonder if his heart would burst through his shirt, painting her hand in crimson. 

His hand slackened, falling from hers but she kept her palm steady against his hammering chest. He was soon carding his fingers through her hair, a light breezing sensation as if a ghost were haunting her. He pulled her in to press his temple against hers, her silken hair cushioning his face.

He let out an uneven breath, Lyra feeling it as his chest thrashed when they were warmly pressed together. Asriel let out a content hum, running his fingers through her soft brown hair thoughtfully. “Is this okay?” he was twirling her hair between his fingers, his breath hot on her ears that sent a chill down her spine. 

She could barely hear him with her own heart thudding in her ears, along with his. It was mix-matched and still very much out of sync, like a peculiar song that she would never get sick of. She thought it might be her new favorite song. “S’fine,” she whispered softly, still massaging Stelmaria’s skin. 

She went to move her hand from his chest to cup his face, and it felt prickly with his facial hair. It tickled her fingers, but she continued to keep it there, moving her thumb in soft circular motions just like she did with Stelmaria before. She could feel his grip on her tighten considerably, a soft moan falling from his parted mouth that sent a confusing thrill through Lyra. 

To Asriel, it felt like he had opened himself up and Lyra was now filling him carefully and considerately, in every crook and corner—even behind the dark and sinister places. His soul was a lonely and depleted thing, and now it felt whole with Lyra connecting herself with it, touching it with such care and love. He felt whole, less empty. He felt her love filling and overwhelming him, and soon acquired a deep desire to feel her in the flesh as he started to ache. 

He needed to feel her brunette locks of hair and twirl the soft strands between his fingers. To hold her in his arms, feel her leaning into him as their heads were huddled together. When his brain had finally caught up with his heart, he started to fear he moved too abruptly and thoughtlessly. 

“S’fine, I promise,” she assured him.

It felt like forever where they were just sitting like that, holding onto each other. Asriel could have and _wanted_ _to_ stay there forever. Until he felt the light and warmth that filled him dimming, suddenly left in his own darkness. He was cold again, empty. 

His eyelids flung open, shifting himself back to look at Lyra. His eyes were sad, almost pleading. “I didn’t know you loved me that much…” his voiced cracked on the word _‘love’._ How could she love him? He felt _un_ lovable. 

“Of course I love you.” She looked bewildered, small hands reaching up to wipe away at the glimmering tears that started to escape from the corners of his eyes. She could feel the lifting of his skin under the pads of her fingers as he started to smile. She smiled too. “And I didn’t hurt you? Or make you uncomfortable?”

Asriel was quick to shake his head. “No, it felt wonderful. And strange… it was wonderfully strange. You filled me up with such love and light, and now that you’re gone…” his voice trailed off, getting more muted and harder to hear. “It’s almost _cold_ ,” he finished, looking off in the distance past Lyra. It was as if he were trying to make sense of the words he was stringing together as he spoke them. 

“But I’m not gone. I’ll always be here,” she went to lean herself forward, running her hand down Stelmaria’s back again that sent such bright fireworks that dazzled brilliantly through his dark shadows. He gasped in a startle—then marveled at her, smile growing wide—such a genuine smile that made Lyra feel giddy. “See? I’ll never let you be cold again.” 


End file.
